


Jordan Has Two Daddies

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bathroom Sex, Domestic, Frottage, Kid Fic, M/M, Sleepy Sex, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-13
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris gets an unexpected new family member, he calls Zach for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jordan Has Two Daddies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darlapr0duction](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=darlapr0duction).
  * Translation into Русский available: [У Джордан два папы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186814) by [Amelia_Harper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia_Harper/pseuds/Amelia_Harper)



> Written for the lovely and generous darlapr0duction, who won me for the Queensland auction. Thanks for your patience, bb! Also, endless gratitude to ewinfic for some much-needed feedback and cheerleading. Carlos the Makeup Guy™ belongs to her.

“Okay, so, what’s this big surprise?” Zach asked, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.  He’d been just about to go out, looking forward to finally ending long self-imposed bout of celibacy, when Chris had called him, begging for his help.  Well, okay, maybe not _total_ celibacy, but in New York he’d hardly had time to go out.  Well, not for the purposes of getting laid, anyway.

“Shhh!” Chris hissed at him as they walked toward the bedroom.

“What, is it sleeping?  Did you get a puppy?  You got a puppy, didn’t you?”

“I…” Chris looked confused.  “Kind of?  Well, no.”

He pushed open the door and Zach looked immediately toward the bed, half expecting to see a full-grown Newfoundland or St. Bernard or, hell, a pot-bellied pig.  But the bed was empty.  “Chris, what—”

Wordlessly, Chris pointed to the far side of the bed, where Zach saw…

A crib.

“No.  No no no.  _No_.”  Zach charged back out into the living room, shaking his head fiercely.  “You did not interrupt my evening and call me to help you babysit.”

Chris shut the door and said in a low voice, “No, I didn’t call you to help me _babysit_.  I called you because Jordan is… She’s…  Fuck me, I can’t even say it.”

“Say what?”

“She’s mine.”

“ _What_?” Zach said, only it came out as more of a shriek, and Chris glanced back at the door with a terrified expression on his face.  After a few tense seconds without any startled crying, Zach got a hold of himself, or at least the pitch of his voice.  “You have a secret baby?  How could you not tell me you have a secret baby?”

“No, I don’t have a—”

“Or, oh god, was it a surprise baby?  Because apparently that happens.  Some women think they’ve got, like, food poisoning, but then they go to the hospital and BAM – baby.”

“She’s not a…  Well, okay, she’s a baby, and she was a surprise, but she’s not mine.  Or, well, she is _now_ , but…”  Chris trailed off, looking nearly as shocked as Zach felt.

“Chris, spit it out.”

“You remember my buddy Sean from college?”

“The funeral you went to the other day?”

“Yeah, him and his wife.  Car wreck got both of them.”

Chris looked lost, utterly and completely overwhelmed, and Zach said “God, Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t even had time to process it.  But remember last year, they invited me to Jordan’s christening and made me the godfather.  I thought it was just kind of a ceremonial thing, but evidently I signed something, not that I wasn’t willing to help out with, like, birthday parties or whatever, but now…”  Chris trailed off, gesturing back toward the bedroom.  “Baby.”

“How old is she?”

“Six months.”

“So, um,” Zach began, feeling increasingly awkward standing in Chris’ living room in his tightest Going Out jeans and shiny purple shirt.  “I get that this is, you know, a big deal.  But, uh… why did you call me again?”

“You like kids.  You’re good with kids.”

“I… guess.”

“You are!  You were so sweet to Jacob on set.”

“He was twelve years old, Chris, not an infant.”

Chris pouted.  He honest-to-god pouted.  “You said you wanted kids.  You told me you’d want to adopt.”

“Yes, _someday_.  Not _tonight_.  Tonight I just want…”  He’d really been looking forward to some good, old-fashioned anonymous – but safe – gay sex.  It was looking increasingly unlikely.

“Fine, then,” Chris said, gesturing dismissively.  “Go.”

Goddamn reverse psychology.  “Do you really need me, Chris?”

“I need somebody.  I’m not desperate enough to call my parents yet, and my sister’s got a baby of her own.”

“Fuck,” Zach sighed.  “Alright.  But get me some sweatpants.  I can’t really sit down in these.”

Chris glanced down, seeming to take in Zach’s outfit for the first time.  “Jesus.  Do you need some Crisco and a shoe horn?”

“I’m already _in_ them, you ass.  Taking them off is much less of a problem.  That’s the whole idea.”

“Oh.  _Ohhhhh_ ,” Chris said, his eyes going wide.  “Uh, sorry about the timing, man.”

“That’s alright.  I know you didn’t end up with a baby just to ruin my night.”

“Okay, so what do we do first?”

“First: pants.”

“Oh, right.  What’s second?”

“Second, we each have a single shot of Patrón.  No more.”

“And third?”

“Third…” Zach sighed.  “Third, we make a list.”

&&&

“That is adorable,” Chris gushed.  “I want that one.”

“Those are so the older siblings don’t feel left out,” Zach explained, gazing evenly at Chris, who had just found a miniature Babies R Us shopping cart.  “Unless you want to carry Jordan around, I suggest you get a Big People cart so we can set her in it.”

“Always with the practicalities,” Chris sighed, going for a regular-size cart.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Zach said, carefully slipping Jordan into the fold-out seat.  “Just sit right here—”

She burst into tears.

“Shit,” muttered Zach.

“Zachary!  Not around the child!” Chris gasped, quite a bit too loudly.

“Okay,” Zach said behind gritted teeth, “first of all, she’s too young to remember that, and even if she weren’t, she couldn’t hear me over the _screaming_.”  He picked Jordan up again, tucking her against his shoulder and rubbing her back soothingly.

It didn’t work.  She only screamed louder and started in with the squirming until Zach was a little worried for his grip.

“Zach, let me take her,” Chris said, reaching out.  Zach carefully handed Jordan over, not letting go until he was certain Chris had her.  “Shhh, baby girl, it’s okay,” Chris cooed, bouncing her a little.  “We’re going to get you all the best stuff.  All the other babies are gonna be jealous of your awesome, uh, bedazzled diaper covers.  What do you think about that?”

Amazingly, Jordan’s sobs began to quiet, and as her breathing started to slow, she let out a loud hiccup.

“Awwwwww,” Zach and Chris said in unison.

And Jordan started wailing again.

It took all of Zach’s willpower not to start laughing at the stunned look on Chris’ face.  “C’mon, we need to get started.  I’m sure this isn’t an unusual event in this store.”

“They’re going to think I’m a bad parent,” Chris moaned, looking forlornly at Jordan, whose face was starting to turn a worrisome shade of red.

“Who’s going to think you’re a bad parent?”

“I don’t know, _them_.  Everyone.”

He glanced around nervously, and Zach let go of the cart to loop an arm around his shoulders and squeeze gently.  “Chris, this is your third day with a child.  Cut yourself some slack.”

“I guess,” Chris sighed.  Jordan sounded like she was starting to tire herself out.  Which was why both Zach and Chris were able to hear, clear as day, the fake-shutter sound of an iPhone camera.

“That’s not good, is it?” Chris asked, wincing hard.

“Shopping first,” Zach said, forging ahead.  “Then calls to publicists.”

&&&

Zach leaned over Chris’ shoulder to peer at the slightly-blurry picture on his computer screen.  “Aww, Jordan has two daddies.”

“You’re funny,” Chris groaned.  “Like a clown.  A dead clown.  In the gutter.”

“Hey, my publicist is more pissed than yours.”

“How is that possible?”

“Hot straight guy with a baby?  Adorable.  Hot gay guy with a baby?  Illegal in 13 states.”

Chris grinned.  “You just said I was hot.”

“I was speaking in generalities.”

“Eh, I’ll take it.”

“Chris, this is going to pass, I promise,” Zach sighed.  He looked over to the crib where Jordan was happily trying to cram a brightly-colored stuffed penguin into her mouth.  She gazed up at him and he couldn’t help it – he had to reach down and pick her up.  But when he did… “Uh, when was the last time you changed her?”

“Couple hours ago.  She need it again?”

Zach held Jordan out in front of him.  Good _god_ , that was some kind of smell.  She looked oddly proud of herself.  “That’s a big yes.  But I’ll get it.  Where do you keep the stuff?”

“Guest room vanity,” Chris said, still frowning at his laptop screen.

Zach toted Jordan into the next room, where the top of an IKEA vanity had been covered by several layers of old beach towels.  They’d gotten Chris the essentials the other day, but hadn’t had time to look for furniture yet.  “Alright, sweet girl,” Zach said, laying her gently across the towels.  “Let’s check the damage.”

He unsnapped her onesie and pushed it up to reveal Jordan’s lower half swaddled in a cocoon of silvery-gray material.  “Chris,” he shouted over his shoulder, not quite able to believe what he was seeing.  “Did you _duct tape_ the baby into her diaper?”

There was a long, guilty pause, then: “Maybe?”

“And why, pray tell, did you feel the need to—”

“Those stupid little sticky tabs stick to everything, including themselves,” Chris groaned, his voice growing louder as he walked toward the guest room.  “I had to improvise.  There are scissors in the top drawer.”

“You thought _scissors_ were a good idea?”

“Better than the box-cutter, yeah.”  Chris rolled his eyes.  “C’mon, man, cut me some slack – I was really careful!”

Zach looked down at Jordan with deep pity.  Chris had better start saving up now, because if she somehow survived childhood, she was going to need some serious therapy.  “Okay, we’ll get around to your horrendous safety violations in a second.  First, do you want to hold or… cut?”

At least Chris had the good sense to look sheepish.  “Uh, how ‘bout I hold?”  He kept a hand on Jordan’s legs while Zach gingerly maneuvered the open scissor blades between the mass of duct tape and her skin.  He didn’t dare to even breathe.  Luckily, she didn’t seem to have any cuts or scrapes from previous barbarian diaper changes.  Still, he put the scissors away as quickly as he could when he was done.

Glancing at each other for support, Chris and Zach each grasped one side of the diaper.  “Are you used to this yet?” Zach asked.

“I’m pretty sure this is like working the homicide unit – if it doesn’t affect you, you’re not human.”

“Okay, let’s do this.  One, two…”

After a moment, Chris unwinced and stared at Zach.  “Where’s three?”

“I’m sorry.  I just froze.  I wasn’t ready for three.”

“I don’t think we’re ever really going to be ready for three.”

“I guess not,” Zach sighed.  “You know, I wasn’t even grossed out about this until I started thinking about it.  Why do we do this to children?  Force them to sit around in their own poop?”

“Because letting them go free range would put the carpet cleaning bills through the roof.  Now come on, this will only be soul-rendingly horrible for a minute.”

“Alright, for reals this time,” Zach said, taking a deep breath through his nose, which was perhaps not the best choice, given the ambient odor.  “One, two… _three_!”

&&&

Zach was starting to worry.  It had been nearly a week since they’d decided to spend some time apart for their publicists’ sake – after the picture had gotten out, there were paparazzi at Chris’ front door – and five days since he’d spoken with Chris.  Oh, they texted constantly, but Chris’ messages were getting shorter and less coherent.  Zach decided to call.

When Chris picked up, he was obviously trying to hide it, but Zach knew from the quiet little sniffle when he picked up the phone that Chris had been crying.

“’lo?”

“Chris?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is Jordan okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, nothing like that.”

Something about the tone in his voice told Zach that Chris wanted him to keep pushing.  “What is it?”

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously, Chris, you can tell me.”

“Can’t,” he said pitifully, sounding like a five year old.  “You’ll make fun of me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I will not.”  Zach waited.  And waited.

It only took a few moments for Chris to break.  “I know sometimes I’m kind of… emotional, but I’m not usually this bad, it’s just that Jordan still isn’t sleeping through the night and I’m so sleep-deprived I might actually be starting to hallucinate, which really wouldn’t be that bad except that I’m so tired I can’t even jerk off.”

“You… what?”

“I’ve never been too tired to jerk off.  _Ever_.  I didn’t even think such a state existed.  But I swear to god, last night I totally passed out on the bed with my dick in my hand.  And of course I couldn’t do anything about it in the morning, because Jordan woke up screaming around five—”

“Chris, hey, slow down, it’s…”  Zach wanted to say it was alright, but it wasn’t alright.  A man had a right to perform his basic bodily functions.  “I’m sorry, man.  That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, no sh—uh, crap.”

“You want me to come over there and give you a hand?”  Zach meant _a hand with the baby_ – he really, really did – but once it was out, there was no way of taking it back.

Luckily, Chris just chuckled tiredly.  “If I thought there was any chance I’d stay awake through it, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

“You doing alright, man?  I mean, other than the… thing.” Sure, it was kind of a stupid question, but Zach was mostly trying to steer the conversation away from his accidental hand job offer.

Chris sighed so heavily that Zach could practically feel it on his own shoulders.  “Not great.  I mean, I’m not just upset about the wanking thing.  That was just sort of the last straw.  I was up with Jordan somewhere around three the other morning and it just kind of hit me: I’ve been thinking about this as temporary.  Like, everything will be alright when it goes back to the way it was before.  But it’s _never_ going to go back to the way it was before, is it?  I know it’s selfish, but… I want it to.  I don’t know if I can do this.”

“It’s not selfish,” Zach said, tucking his legs up underneath him on the couch.  “Most parents have at least nine months to get used to the idea.  You got it all thrust upon you at once, and you didn’t even have time to process your friends’ death.  Is there… did Jordan’s parents have any other family?”

“Not for her to live with.  Sean was an only child and both his parents passed away.  I never got the full story on his wife, but I know she came from a really bad home and broke ties with everyone when she moved away.”

Zach gnawed on his lower lip.  “Well, since Jordan’s going to be with you for good…  You don’t have to do this by yourself.  Have you thought about hiring a nanny?”

“No,” Chris said quickly, “no nannies.  Not unless I absolutely have to when filming starts.  My parents were both actors and they raised me and Katie just fine.”

“Yeah, but they had each other to rely on.”

“What about your mom?  She mostly raised you and Joe by herself.”

“First of all, neither of us were infants at the time, and second, I don’t think my mother slept from the time I was seven years old until I left for college.  She might actually be superhuman.”

“I want to do this _right_ , Zach.”

“I know you do, buddy,” Zach said softly.  His heart broke at the anguish in his friend’s voice.  “Tell you what, fuck the paparazzi – let me come over and watch Jordan for a while so you can get some sleep.”

A lengthy pause.  “You’d do that?”  He sounded so damned grateful, too, almost awestruck.

“Of course.”   Zach had plans to go out for drinks with some friends, but they were people he saw all the time anyway.  “Just try to stay awake for another half hour and I’ll be right over.”  Zach glanced around, formulating a plan.  “Better make it an hour, but I’ll let you sleep as long as you want.”

“I… I love you,” said Chris, and Zach knew he was being hyperbolical.  He did.  Still, it felt good.

&

The Chris who opened the front door looked like a zombified version of Zach’s friend.  A zombie Chris with splotches of baby puke down the front of his shirt.

“She’s in her crib,” Chris said, letting Zach in.  “She’s just quieted down, but she’s been really fussy for most of the day.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zach said, setting his bag down in the hall.  “Just get to bed.  Well, if you can stay upright for another ten minutes, take a shower.  Then go to bed.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about this,” Chris said, stripping off his soiled shirt.

Zach struggled to keep his eyes on Chris’ face – even redolent of baby vomit, he was still too damn attractive for his own good.  “Hey, no judging here.”

Chris glanced down at Zach’s feet.  “What’s with the duffel?”

“Oh,” Zach muttered, looking away and scratching idly at the back of his neck.  “I thought… If you wanted me to, I might stay awhile, try to help you out some.  I took Noah over to Joe’s and Harold will be alright by himself for a couple of days, so if you don’t mind, I thought I’d— _ooooof_.”

Zach nearly got the wind knocked out of him when Chris threw his arms wide and flung himself at Zach, wrapping around him like an octopus.  Completely unsure what to do with an armload of topless, sleep-deprived Chris, Zach patted him gently on the back.

“Seriously, dude, _shower_.”

&&&

“I can deal with your occasional little man-dates.  I can even spin this whole ‘two men and a baby’ thing you’ve got going on, because it’s the kind of thing that makes ovaries explode all over the place.  What I cannot explain away, however, is you showing up on his doorstep with a g-damn _duffel bag_ like it’s an effing sleepover!”

She actually said “g-damn” and “effing” – from what Zach could gather, her yogi had said something about reducing her stress levels, and fake cursing was supposed to help that somehow.  Zach had found it pretty hilarious – up until now, when he’d rather just throw the phone through the wall.  “Look, Stacy, I’m—”

“Don’t you friggin’ dare tell me you’re sorry, Zach,” she snapped, then sighed wearily.  “I know we haven’t talked about this in a while, but do you want to come out?  I’m not saying it’s the best option, I’m just saying that if it happens, we want to be the ones in control of it, not some mothereffing c-word of a paparazzo.”

“I…” Zach started quietly, pinching at the bridge of his nose.  It would be so much easier if… But then… No, this wasn’t a decision he could make now.  He’d been putting it off for years – no need to try to deal with it now.  Not with everything else that was going on.  “No, not yet.”

He got Stacy off the phone with a promise “not to do something so flipping bull-headed” again.  He still had a dozen or so text messages to deal with, but he shut his phone off and stuffed it in his pocket.  He needed a minute to think, that’s all—

And that was all he got before Jordan started wailing from the other room.  Zach shut his eyes, silently willing Chris to go see to her, but no sooner did he think it than he heard, “Zach, could you go take care of her?  I’m in the middle of something.”

Zach knew he should do it.  But instead, he yelled, “What’s so important that you can’t get her?”

Jordan was crying louder now, and Chris had to raise his voice even more.  “Zach, _please_ , I’ve been with her all day.  Just give me five more minutes.”

Zach very nearly retorted, _yeah, well, she’s_ your _kid_ , but he stopped himself just in time.  He pushed up off the couch – Chris owed him big for this.  He’d been slowly cultivating a bitch of a headache since answering the phone, and the baby’s crying was like an icepick in his temple.

Jordan didn’t quiet down when Zach picked her up, not even after a few moments of soothing whispers and gentle bouncing.  He sniffed her lower half with undiminished trepidation, but no, she didn’t need a change.  “You hungry, baby girl?” he asked and got a few sulky whimpers in response.  “I guess that’s a yes.”

When he returned to the living room, he nearly ran smack into Chris, who was carrying a full bottle.  “Sorry,” Chris says, rubbing tiredly at one eye.  “You’re right, she’s my responsibility.  I’ll take her.”

He didn’t look quite as wrecked as he had at the beginning of the weekend, but it was obviously going to take more than two nights’ sleep to get rid of those circles under his eyes.  It was finally starting to sink in for Zach, too – _my friend has a kid_.  Fuck it, he was already here; he might as well make the pap pictures worth it.  “No, here, I’ll feed her,” he said, taking the bottle and heading back to the couch.

With Jordan cradled gently in his arm, Zach gave her the bottle, which she eagerly clutched and drank.  He heard Chris bustling around behind him for a few moments, still in the room but silent.  Perhaps he thought Zach was still irritated with him.  “When does she start eating solid food?” he asked by way of a peace offering.

“Pretty soon,” Chris said.  “I’ve already tried a little bit of apple puree.  It wasn’t a big hit, but my mom says she should be just about ready for baby food.”

“Huh,” Zach muttered, for lack of anything intelligent to say.  He liked kids, but when it came to actually raising them, he was beginning to realize just how clueless he really was.

Luckily, Chris changed the subject.  “Were you talking to Stacy just then?”

Still, not a great subject.  “Yeah.”

“I can tell whenever you’re on the phone with her, you start sounding like a scolded kid.   I know because I’m the exact same way.  ‘Yes, Gerry.  Whatever you say, Gerry.  I’ll do better next time, Gerry.’”

Zach sighed, relaxing back into the couch.  Jordan was nearly finished with the bottle.  “When did we turn over control of our lives to a team of handlers?”

“Round about the time we put on our Starfleet uniforms, I think,” Chris said.  Zach could tell he was trying to keep his voice light, but sometimes he wondered if Chris ever regretted being thrust into the spotlight so quickly.  Even though Zach had had a little more preparation, there were still days when he wondered, _what if I was never Spock?  Where would I be now?_

Well, he certainly would never have predicted that that particular career move would result in him gently putting his friend’s adopted baby over his shoulder and patting her back until she burped.

“You want me to take her?” Chris asked.

“Actually, I think I’ll hold her for a bit,” Zach said.  Jordan was nestling in against Zach’s shoulder, and it felt right to just keep her there.  “She’s so… warm.”

It wasn’t quite as eloquent as whatever it was he meant to say, but Chris chuckled anyway.  “I know.  She’s like a little baby-shaped heater.  It’s great now, but just wait until summer.”

Zach smiled, closing his eyes and letting himself sink deeper into the couch.  His headache had abated since Jordan had quieted down, but it was still throbbing just behind his left eyebrow.  “Chris, have you got any Tylenol?”

“Headache?”

“Yeah.”

“Actually, I think I’m out.  But, uh…”  Chris trailed off, and suddenly, Zach felt fingers combing through his hair, massaging his scalp.

He opened his eyes and tipped his head back, looking straight up at Chris with a quizzical expression.

Chris looked oddly nervous, though it could be just because Zach was looking at him upside down.  He shrugged.  “Just something my mom used to do when I got a headache.  Too weird?”

“Um, no.  Feels kind of good, actually.”  Had Zach ever mentioned to Chris how much he liked having his hair played with?  He didn’t think so.  But Chris dug his fingers right back into Zach’s hair, no hesitation at all.  He even tugged a little, just the way Zach liked, and it took a stupendous amount of effort to hold back a moan.

Chris didn’t seem to notice, just went on carding his fingers through Zach’s hair and rubbing the pads of his fingers in firm circles against Zach’s scalp.  It was _heaven_ ; Zach felt his headache slipping away like an ebbing tide.  It wasn’t quite enough to get him hard – and the warm, innocent weight on his shoulder made him glad of that – but his pants definitely felt a little tighter.  He took a few deep breaths, willing himself to experience Chris’ hands as relaxing, rather than arousing.

As Jordan settled against him and Chris’ magical fingers in his hair relaxed him further, Zach began to doze lightly.  He only came back to alertness when the talented hands left his scalp.  He almost whined for them back, but Chris had to have been rubbing his head for at least 20 minutes now, and surely his fingers were tired.

Zach closed his eyes again and felt the couch dip beside him, Chris sitting close enough that Zach could feel the heat from his body.  “I don’t guess I’ve thanked you yet,” he murmured.  “I really was about to lose my mind.  I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

But Zach heard the question Chris didn’t want to, or couldn’t, ask.  “I need to check my calendar, but I think I could probably come over here a few nights a week, watch Jordan for a little while so you can get some rest.  Or go out, or whatever.”

Chris was silent for so long that Zach finally opened his eyes and looked over at Chris, whose eyes were wide like he wasn’t quite sure he could believe what he was hearing.  “You’d do that?” he whispered.

“Sure.  I don’t have another big time commitment ‘til Trek.  It’s mostly Before the Door stuff, and I can always play the big bad producer card to shift the schedule around a little bit.”

“I could kiss you right now,” Chris said with surprising sincerity.  “I won’t, ‘cause it’ll wake the baby.  But I just want you to know that I could.”

“Uh, yeah, no kissing necessary,” Zach said, smiling a little awkwardly.  “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

&&&

From there, they fell into a domestic routine almost disturbingly quickly.  Chris was able to stay home most of the day.  He’d been able to back out of the Jack Ryan project – apparently, with all the script changes his contract wasn’t set in stone, and he’d had the somewhat manipulative but effective foresight to bring Jordan along to the meeting with the lawyers.  Zach was working on another short film with Victor, but he could set most of his own hours, so he was able to keep his word and watch Jordan and let Chris have some time to himself in the evenings. 

But after the first two or three nights of driving back to his place late, after Jordan had been put to bed and he and Chris finished talking and having a glass or three of wine, Zach figured it would probably be more efficient just to stay the night at Chris’.  After all, it wasn’t that far away, and Noah loved staying with Uncle Joe, who spoiled the hell out of him with freshly-cooked marrow bones all the time.  Bridgit was willing to take Harold, and it was one less thing for Zach to worry about.

On one of Zach’s rare afternoons off when Chris wasn’t either exhausted or itching to get out of the house, they spread a blanket on the carpet, surrounded Jordan with her favorite toys, and joined her on the floor.  Chris was currently stretched out on his stomach, chin on his hands, gazing at Jordan with an expression of awe that Zach hadn’t seen on his face since… well, maybe ever.

“Look at her _hands_ ,” Chris sighed.  Zach looked at Jordan’s chubby little fingers clasped around the handset of a plastic telephone, which she was presently taste-testing.  But Chris was looking at her like she was painting the Sistine Chapel.  “Just look at them.  They’re like normal hands, only… tiny.  Just perfect little miniature hands.”

Zach refrained from commenting to the effect that babies pretty much had miniature _everything_ , since Chris seemed so blissfully content at the moment, and it filled Zach with a calm sort of satisfaction.  In fact, Zach was watching Chris much more intently than Jordan.

“Look, look, she’s dialing!” Chris said, pointing at Jordan’s other hand mashing the buttons.   “Hey, go easy on the long distance calls, sweetie.  By the time you get to Berkeley, I’m not sure even Daddy’s bank account is gonna cover the tuition.”

“Berkeley, huh?” Zach teased.  “She’s not going to make it in to Stanford?”

“She’ll get in, but she’s going to turn them down, because they’re a bunch of self-important, elitist a-holes.  Aren’t they, Jordan?  Aren’t they a bunch of a-holes?”

“Wait, that doesn’t count as a swear?”

“Not on primetime TV.”

They fell silent as Jordan began a steady stream of babbling, and Zach knew Chris was listening intently for a “da-da” in there somewhere.  Then it occurred to him.  “Hey, Chris.”

“Mmm?”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you call yourself her dad.”

Chris beamed, a light flush spreading across his cheeks.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

&&&

They’d had to work out a way around the paparazzi from the very beginning.  For the first week, Chris insisted that Zach park at least two blocks away and never walk straight to Chris’ apartment from his car.  It got them into their first real, loud argument since Trek filming, which stopped only when Jordan woke up crying in the other room.  But the more Zach thought about it, the more it made sense.  Yes, it was a lot for Chris to ask of him, especially on top of all the other ways he’d rearranged his time to help Chris out, but it had to be done if they wanted to avoid another situation like the Great Duffel Bag Affair.

Fortunately – for them – Paris and Nicole started to have loud arguments in public again, and Charlie Sheen was hospitalized.  Zach was pretty sure his karma took a serious hit from being so glad that a fellow human being had overdosed on cocaine, but the guy did seem to be made of tiger blood – he had regained conscious and was already sexually harassing his nurses, if the gossips sites were to be believed.

The world at large already knew that Chris had adopted a child – he’d released a statement to that effect – though the circumstances surrounding the adoption had largely been kept out of the press on Chris’ insistence.  Of course, that left everyone free to speculate on where, exactly, Jordan had come from.

“Hey, Zach, did you know I took a secret trip to Belarus and kidnapped a former Communist orphan?”

“Wow, she’s already a former Communist?” Zach said, peeking over the top of his laptop to where Chris sat at on the couch.  “I’m impressed.  Most children her age are still uncommitted to a particular economic system, and yet she’s on her second.  At least.”

“She _is_ very advanced.”

“I have no doubt.  Though I heard you bought her from a single mother through the Mexican black market.”

“Ooh, how exciting,” Chris cooed, bending over to stick his hand in Jordan’s playpen and rattle a toy in front of her delighted face.  “Who’s my little black market baby?  Is it you?  Is it you?”

Zach continued going through his e-mail, replying vaguely to a few friends who wondered where he’d been for the past few weeks.   He didn’t lie, exactly, just told them he’d been busy, and that he was going to continue to be busy for a while.  Jordan had recently started teething, and Zach certainly wasn’t going to leave Chris to deal with that by himself.  The exhaustion of taking care of a baby was now divided evenly between the two of them (well, maybe more like 60-40, since Chris was usually the one who tended to her during the night), but it still meant that neither of them were exactly free to pursue actual social lives.

A new message from Zoe popped up with the subject line “You probably want to see this.”  Zach didn’t think anything of it until he clicked on the link.  It took him to the Facebook page of somebody he didn’t know, but there were pictures of him from his trip to Costco two days ago, trying to load a jumbo box of diapers into the frustratingly-small trunk of his Lexus.  There was a whole series of pictures, complete with commentary on the admittedly slapstick methods Zach had used to get the box to fit, but it ended with the speculation “Hmm, wonder where Zach is taking those diapers?  Anyone he knows have a baby recently?  Or adopt a baby?  Wonder who’s the mommy and who’s the daddy…”

Lord knew where Zoe had found the link to those pictures, but luckily, they didn’t seem to have been picked up by any of the gossip sites.  Yet.  But he must have made some type of noise when he saw them, because Chris was already off the couch and coming over to him.  “What is it?”

Zach considered trying to hide them, but Chris would just keep pestering him until he found out.  “Zoe found these,” he said carefully.  “But I don’t think anyone else knows about them yet.”

He watched Chris’ face carefully as the other man scanned the pictures.  Chris’ mouth tightened, his eyes narrowing.  “ _Zach_ ,” he said in an exasperated tone.

Zach felt a hot bubble of anger rise through his gut.  What did Chris expect from him?  He hadn’t wanted to have his picture taken there.  Just because he dealt with this kind of thing better than Chris did didn’t mean that he liked it.  “What?”

“You didn’t notice somebody taking your picture?”

“No, Chris, I didn’t,” Zach spat.  “I was too busy buying diapers for you.”  _And paying for them myself_ , he thought, but it sounded too petty even to say.

“You couldn’t—” Chris began, raising his voice, but stopping when he looked down at the playpen.  “You couldn’t take a quick look around to see that the coast was clear?”

“What do you expect me to do, analyze every person I see every time I leave the house?  This kind of thing is going to happen, especially while I’m helping you out.”

Chris glared at him, and for a second, Zach wondered if he’d gone too far – that last bit almost sounded like a passive-aggressive threat to leave.  But then Chris relented, sighing and rubbing his eyes.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not you I’m mad at,” Chris said, and the burning in Zach’s stomach began to dissipate.  “God knows I have more important things to worry about.  I just… want to be left alone, y’know?”

Zach knew, of course.  Especially now that there was a child involved, Chris had every right to want to conduct his life in private.  But the publicity machine wasn’t going to change any time soon.  “Look, let’s just start by contacting this girl and asking her nicely to take the pictures down.”

Chris rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, ‘cause that’ll work.”

“Chris, she’s a fan, not a professional photographer.  I’ve done that before, and it usually works.”

“What, seriously?”

“Not everyone’s out to get you,” Zach said, trying to make it sound as gentle as possible.

“Way to make me sound like a paranoiac,” Chris sighed, slumping down over the back of the couch to lean with his elbows on Zach’s shoulders, his chin resting on the top of Zach’s head.

Chris had always been a tactile kind of guy, the kind that gave big, ridiculous bear hugs instead of handshakes, but something about caring for a child must have made him even more physically affectionate, Zach mused.  Zach tried to remember if he’d seen Chris act like this around anyone else, but for the past few weeks, it had largely been just the two of them.  And Jordan, of course.

Zach reached up and rubbed Chris’ arm gently.  “You’re dealing with this really well, all things considered.”

Chris laughed bitterly, and Zach could feel his warm breath rustle his hair.  “You mean I’m doing great because I’m not actually screaming and throwing things?”

“I mean you’re doing great in general.  Just look at Jordan.  See how happy she looks.”

In her playpen, Jordan was on her back, swatting at the brightly colored plastic stars dangling from a rod above her.  When she smacked one so hard it flipped back over the bar and swung crazily, she giggled and squirmed with delight.

“She does look happy,” Chris murmured, his voice so low and close to Zach’s ear that Zach shivered a little.

“And how about you?” Zach asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“How about me?”

“Are you happy?”

Zach felt Chris take a slow, deep breath.  “I’m tired.  But I’m… content.”

Before he could think better of it, Zach asked, “And in the, uh, self-gratification department?”  Zach himself had managed to pass out mid-wank just last week – it was truly a sorry state of affairs.

That made Chris stand back up, taking his weight and his warmth away from Zach.  “Ugh, I still can’t believe I told you that.  But, um, there could still stand to be improvement.  In that department.  Oh god, I’m shutting up now.”

With that, he left the room.  Zach watched him go, wondering if he imagined the way Chris’ hand seemed to sneak around to subtly tug at the front of his own pants.  Then Zach did the same.

&&&

When Zach’s eyes cracked open, it was dark, some ungodly hour of the morning, and his arm was asleep where it was wedged between the cushions of Chris’ couch.  God help him, he was already attuned to the sound of Jordan’s cries, and he was about to stand up when he heard Chris muttering to himself and shuffling down the hallway.  Jordan had finally been starting to sleep through the night, but obviously this wasn’t one of them.  From the sound of the cries, she must have started cutting another tooth.

Zach collapsed back to the couch, his eyelids too heavy to keep open, but only drowsed.  The clock read 2:49 – god help him if he was already at an age where he couldn’t fall asleep once woken.  Eventually, he heard Chris’ footsteps go into the kitchen and a hollow thump that was probably him tossing the teething ring into the sink to be washed and put back in the freezer. Zach must have dropped off slightly because the next thing he knew, Chris was nudging at Zach’s legs with his knee.  “Scootch.”

“No.”

“ _Scootch_.”

“Go sleep in your bed.”

“Bed is there.  Couch is here.”

The words _how eloquent_ floated through Zach’s head, but what came out of his mouth sounded more like “Flmbl,” which did nothing to stop Chris from climbing onto the couch and plopping down mostly atop Zach, his nose pressed into Zach’s neck.

“Chr’ssssss,” he groaned, shifting against the stifling hot weight of Chris’ body draped across him, but Chris only hummed contentedly and wriggled in closer, shoving something hot and stiffening against Zach’s thigh.

Huh.

Zach could hardly blame him.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d successfully jerked off, let alone the last time he’d gotten laid – it had to be even longer for Chris.  The pressure of a hard, warm body against Zach’s own cut his forebrain entirely out of the loop, making his nerves sing _yes, more_.

Chris was obviously feeling the same thing, because he was rocking slowly against Zach’s leg.  Zach managed to hold out until Chris’ mouth opened against his neck, lips smearing hot and wet against his skin.  It was barely anything, but it flooded Zach’s fatigued brain with endorphins.  For a few moments, he tried to fight it, remain still under Chris.  Maybe he should have thought it through more, worried about taking advantage of Chris’ obviously exhausted state, but it was just too good, too simple to dissect.  He’d freak out about it later.

Getting off was the farthest thing from Zach’s mind – his body couldn’t even work up the blood pressure needed to get fully hard, but just rubbing his semi up against Chris’ hip felt better than he could remember anything ever feeling before, ever.  Chris’ lips were slowly dragging up Zach’s jaw, and Zach instinctively tilted his head down, and then their mouths were pressed together. 

It was hardly even a kiss, just lips rubbing against lips with the stuttering motions of their bodies, but the heat of Chris’ breath seemed to warm Zach all over.  With focus, he managed to move his lips, put a little bit of tension into the muscles of his mouth and turn it into an actual kiss.  There was simply no thought in Zach’s head that Chris wouldn’t respond, and he did, pressing in with intent and mouthing at Zach’s lower lip with a soft sigh.

Zach didn’t remember pulling back or stopping, but somewhere between their warm little haven on the couch and the light of morning, sleep gently reached out and claimed him.

&

The next morning, Zach got up, changed Jordan, and started in on breakfast before he remembered.  Chris had obviously stumbled back to his own room at some point during the night, and when Zach heard him stirring in the other room, he actually stood frozen for so long that the eggs burned into a foul-smelling brown lump in the pan.  Zach quickly scraped them down the garbage disposal and started again.

Chris wandered into the kitchen, idly scratching his belly, and headed straight for the refrigerator.  “Morning,” he grunted, pulling a carton of orange juice from the fridge, shaking it to stir up the pulp, and then drinking it straight from the carton.  Zach would have admonished him if he hadn’t been focusing all his energy on remaining upright.  And not ruining the eggs again.

Zach nearly jumped when Chris plunked the carton back on the counter with a suspiciously hollow sound.  “We’re, uh, out of juice.  Sorry.”

“That’s alright.  I’m not a fan of backwash in the morning, anyway,” Zach said stiffly, pulling the pan off the burner but still not daring to turn and look at Chris.  Did he not remember?

Chris snorted.  “I’ll pick some up this afternoon.  You need anything else?”

“Yeah, get me some of those pretzels shaped like lighthouses.  And butt wipes.  We’re running low on those.”

“For you or the baby?”

“Funny,” Zach said, carefully dividing the eggs on to two plates.  But nothing in Chris’ tone suggested anything other than their normal banter.  “Just get the industrial-sized box this time.”

“Roger.  Thanks for breakfast.  I’ll be sure to stock up on those freezer lasagnas you like.”

So that was Zach’s life now.  But though they talked about just about everything else, Chris never brought up what had happened at 2:49 am.  It was apparently only Zach who felt awkward about it, because Chris was acting so normally and everything was going so smoothly that Zach didn’t dare bring it up.  He was beginning to think he’d dreamt the whole thing.

Until, of course, it happened again.  This time, he was going for a drink in the middle of the night, and on his way back, as he passed Chris’ room, he heard a slightly whiny “Zaaaaaaach.”

“What?”

“C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Just c’mere.”

When he’d stumbled through the darkened room to Chris’ bed, the other man reached up and, with surprising strength, yanked Zach down onto the mattress.  He collapsed on top of Chris, but neither made a move to separate, and soon he felt Chris’ hips start to circle slowly up against his own, along with a deep, contented sigh that ruffled through his sleep-rumpled hair.

After a truly half-hearted attempt to remain still, Zach began to move at a counterpoint to Chris, sluggish presses of his hips that made his lower belly fizz with gentle warmth.  Though he was already nearing sleep, he had a moment to regret that his mouth wasn’t near enough to Chris’ for another almost-kiss, but, as though Chris could hear his thoughts, he turned his head slightly so that his lips brushed against Zach’s hairline.  Together, they rocked gently to sleep.

When Zach woke up the next morning, he was once again alone, but this time he was in Chris’ bed and he could smell bacon frying in the kitchen.  He padded out carefully to find Jordan in her high chair in the kitchen, Chris talking softly to her from the stove.

“…try the strained pears again today.  I know they’re not your favorite, but they’re better than the carrots.  I’m sorry you’re not quite ready for bacon yet.  Why don’t they make strained bacon?”

Zach couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Chris, think that through.  Strained bacon would be _disgusting_.”

Chris only jumped a little bit.  “Dude, don’t sneak up on me during bacon time.  I could accidentally flip grease everywhere, give myself third degree burns on my face.”

“Not the moneymaker!”

“You see?  I have a child to provide for now.  I have to protect my assets.”

Zach opened his mouth to make an “assets” joke, but he was afraid that might somehow lead into an awkward discussion of what they’d been doing at night.  Plus, it was significantly harder to make ass jokes with a baby staring at him.  Huh, who knew?

This… thing between them, whatever it was, seemed so completely divorced from their normal day-to-day life that no matter how odd Zach felt the next morning, he couldn’t seem to find the words to bring up the subject in the light of day.  It was like a secret they were keeping, even from themselves, and it was such a sweet little secret that Zach, for as much as he liked to think of himself as a self-aware human being, wouldn’t let himself question it.  Didn’t they both deserve something good?

&&&

“How did this…” Zach hissed, nudging Chris in the ribs.  “I mean, how did this happen?  Is this real life?”

Chris shrugged, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant.  “Would you believe he owes me a favor?”

“Christopher, Leonard Nimoy does not owe favors to people like _us_.  People like us owe favors to Leonard Nimoy.”

“Actually, it was all his idea.  JJ told him about Jordan, and he called me up.  Said he’d love to meet her, and if I ever needed him to babysit, to just call.”

Zach gaped.  “And you took him up on it?”

“He kept asking me!”  Chris shrugged.  “I mean, his youngest grandkid is, what, twelve now?  Maybe he misses being around babies.”

Leonard returned to the living room, holding Chris’ baby – a phenomenon Zach truly never thought he would see – and shooed them with his other hand.  “Go on, you two.  Have fun.  We’ll be fine here.”

“Uh, okay.  Yes.  Thank you,” Zach stammered, reaching for his jacket.

“Thank you again, Mr. Nimoy,” Chris said.

Leonard clucked his tongue reprovingly.  “Christopher.”

“Sorry.  Leonard.  Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.  Now go on.  Skedaddle.”

When they got outside and closed the door, Chris turned to Zach.  “Did Leonard just tell us to ‘skedaddle’?”

“Oh, good, you heard it, too.”  The paparazzi had largely lost interest in them for the moment, but Zach still took a minute to glance around before they headed for Chris’ car.  “Hey, Chris, we never really discussed this, but are you sure you wouldn’t rather go out with… other friends?  I know we’ve been around each other pretty much constantly – you’re allowed to take a night off.”

“Nah.  Besides, we don’t actually spend a lot of time just hanging out anymore.  Either we’re both with Jordan, or one of us is and the other one’s recuperating.”  Then Chris stopped, the car door half-opened.  “Unless… did _you_ want to hang out with someone else?  You can if you want to.”

“No, this is good,” Zach reassured him, climbing into the Mini Cooper.  It had taken them hours to wedge the car seat into the back, but Chris had absolutely drawn the line at getting a minivan.  “I’m just happy to get out, you know?  Have a break in the routine.”

“Yes,” Chris groaned, dropping into the driver’s seat and buckling in.  “So I was thinking: booze and music?  Go out there and tear it up, just like old times?”

“Oh god, yes,” Zach said as Chris peeled rubber out of the driveway.

&

Zach stared at his half-full, mostly melted margarita and sighed.  Beside him, Chris was slouched over the table, surrounded by empty shot glasses.  He’d been putting them away all night, but Zach figured he probably needed it and had taken his keys after the third drink.  God, it was loud in here.  Did they keep turning the music up?  It was so _loud_.

As Zach watched, Chris reached up and began to, slowly and with great concentration, stack the empty glasses into a pyramid.  “Remind me,” he said, his eyes focused intently on the stack.  “We used to enjoy this?  We found this fun?”

Zach groaned.  “Oh, thank god, it’s not just me.  I’m so tired I could fall off this stool.”

“Are we done tearing it up now?” Chris asked mournfully, abandoning his stacking.

“Definitely,” Zach said, and though he wobbled a little from exhaustion upon standing, he had to carefully help Chris down.

“Next time,” Chris said, slurring a little.  “Next time, we are going for dinner at a nice, quiet restaurant that does not serve anything that could be described as ‘creamed’ or ‘strained,’ and then we are going to a seedy pay-by-the-hour motel to lie face down and sleep for a few hours.”

“That sounds amazing,” Zach agreed.

“Hooo shit,” Chris groaned, steadying himself on Zach’s arm as they headed for the exit.  “How much did I drink?”

“Just enough.”

“’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.  You needed to unwind.”

“This isn’t what dads are supposed do,” Chris moaned, leaning harder into Zach.  “I’m a bad dad.  Heh.  Bad dad.  It rhymes.  It sucks, but it rhymes.”

“Chris, I’m not going to belabor this point, because I don’t think you’re going to remember much of this tomorrow, but you’re an amazing dad.”

“’m not.”

“Yes, you are.  Don’t argue with me when you’re drunk.”

Chris didn’t push it, but he didn’t stop pouting either as Zach awkwardly loaded him into the passenger seat.  The Mini Cooper was obviously not designed to transport mopey drunks.

“An’m sorry you’re stuck with me,” Chris sighed as Zach joined him in the car.

Zach leaned over the console to take Chris’ chin in his hand and turn Chris’ head to face him.  “Christopher.  I suppose you’ve earned a little self-pity, but it’s okay to let people take care of you sometimes.”

Chris’ eyes were focused intently somewhere around the bridge of Zach’s nose, so Zach decided that Pep Talk time was probably over for tonight.  The drive home took nearly an hour, thanks to construction and some only-in-LA Saturday night traffic, and Chris spent the whole time silently staring out of the window.  Silence was a bit of a luxury for both of them these days, so Zach didn’t break it.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Chris seemed to have sobered up quite a bit.  As Zach went to pull the keys out of the ignition, Chris’ hand stopped him.  “Zach.”

“Mmm?”

“I never asked you why.”

Zach searched Chris’ face for clues, but came up empty.  “Why what?”

“Why you’d do all this for me.  Give up your social life, pretty much move in with me, all to help me raise a kid that’s not related to you at all.”

Zach immediately flushed – it was a question he had been trying not to ask himself.  “You… you’re my friend, Chris.  And you asked me for help.”

Chris narrowed his eyes, suddenly looking immensely perceptive for someone who’d had so much to drink.  “So you’d do that for any of your friends?  Just… drop everything?”

“I… some of them.  Maybe?  I don’t know.  Does it matter?”

Chris’ gaze dropped, but he didn’t let go of Zach’s hand.  “I didn’t get drunk tonight to unwind.  I was going to ask you… Well, tell you.  No, ask you.  I thought a drink or two would make it easier, but it didn’t so I kept going, but if I don’t say it now…  God, I should’ve written something – I was always shit at improv.”  He looked up at Zach again, his eyes a clearer blue than Zach had ever seen them, even in the dim light.  “I couldn’t have done this without you.  I know people say that all the time, but really, I would be huddled in the corner in a little ball of crazy and Jordan would’ve been taken away by social services by now if it weren’t for you.  You’ve done more for me than I could ever ask for, more than I could ever repay even if I started right now, and I wondered…  You know that _thing_ that we do sometimes, that we don’t talk about in the morning, I think about it a lot and I wanted to know if… maybe there could be something more?”

Zach had to consciously keep his jaw from dropping open.  “More, as in…”

The corner of Chris’ mouth quirked up lazily.  “Zach, we’re pretty much living together.  We’ve been sleeping in the same bed half the time.  Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” Zach said, his mind trying hard to catch up with his mouth.  “And I _do_ want…  But can we?”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Jordan.”

Chris looked stunned, like he honestly hadn’t thought of that, and Zach was reminded that Chris still wasn’t really sober.  God, Zach just wanted to pull Chris in for a hug and hold him tight – he was already so overwhelmed with taking care of Jordan, Zach didn’t want to make his life more complicated.  Not now at least.  “So you’re fine with a little free humping, but now that I actually ask you to own up to it—”

“Chris, now’s not a good time, but maybe in a little while—”

Chris’ expression was rapidly morphing from confusion to anger.  “I’m not just _babysitting_ , Zach.  Jordan’s with me forever.”

“I know that, of course I know that, but—”

“No _but_ ,” Chris nearly shouted, and the way he was fumbling with the door handle would’ve been funny under other circumstances.  “That’s how it is.  I thought you knew that.”

“I do, but—”

Chris finally managed to shove the door open.  Before he got out, he turned to face Zach.  “Do you need anything from inside?  Because I think you should go back to your place tonight.”

“What?”  Zach felt like he’d let something important slip from his grasp when he wasn’t paying attention, and now there was no getting it back.

“I don’t want you here,” Chris enunciated slowly and clearly.

“But you’re—”

“I’m fine.  You should go.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“Too bad,” Chris said, his expression pitiless.  He slammed the car door behind him.

After Chris went into the house, Zach stayed where he was, hoping that Chris would come to his senses and come back out.  Then he hoped that Leonard would come out, but remembered that it was nearly one in the morning and Chris had invited him to stay the night.

Finally, Zach gave up and backed out of the driveway.

&&&

He intended to give Chris at least a day to cool down, but Zach only made it until around 11 the next morning before he really started to worry.  Hopefully, Leonard had stuck around long enough to help Chris with the baby in the morning, but Zach had known Chris to fake his way through a few bad hangovers, managing to convince just about everyone he was fine even though he was barely functioning.

After going back and forth with himself for half an hour, Zach finally texted Chris: _everything alright over there?_

The reply came back quickly.  _Everything’s fine.  Leonard left an hour ago._   And then, as if reading Zach’s mind: _Don’t come over._

Zach sat and stared at his phone for a long time, twice starting to reply but ultimately deleting the text.  What was he supposed to say to that?  Slowly, he went from worried to truly pissed off.  What the hell was Chris’ problem?  As much as it had hurt, Zach had turned Chris down as gently as he knew how and _tried_ to leave the door open for something in the future, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for Chris.  What did he want from Zach?  Their little arrangement, bizarre and frustrating as it could sometimes be, had been working.

Angry, Zach turned his cell phone completely off in illogical defiance and got up from the couch.  He finally had some time all to himself; this was good.  No, this was _great_.  He could do whatever he wanted now without interruptions – finally finish that Donna Tartt book, cook that vegetarian curry recipe he’d been dying to try, maybe catch up on replying to his friends’ e-mails.  But many of his friends had stopped e-mailing him after he had to keep turning down their invitations, he didn’t have any of the ingredients for the curry, and he couldn’t concentrate on the book for longer than a few sentences. 

Without even Noah and Harold around the house, there was nothing to distract himself from the fact that he had no idea what to do with himself.  He’d only been helping Chris care for Jordan for about three months now, but he was already having trouble remembering what his days off were like before.

Ultimately too lazy to go to the grocery store, Zach ended up turning on a Bad Girls Club marathon and lying listlessly on the couch, picking at a thread on one of the cushions until he’d nearly pried the entire seam apart.  He couldn’t remember feeling this useless in a long time.  He felt so listless that he barely realized he was dozing off.

He woke an embarrassing number of hours later with an idea.  He had at least one good friend with a husband, kids, a steady job – in all, a disgustingly perfect life – and Zach wasn’t so naïve to think it was all down to good luck and a perky ass.  So he swallowed his pride and called Matt Bomer.

Zach truly meant to ease into the subject, since they hadn’t talked in months.  Instead, as soon as Matt answered the phone, Zach blurted out, “You’re happy, right?”

“Zach?”

“Um, yeah, it’s me.  Sorry.  Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yep.  Simon took the kids to Jones Beach, even though I still say it’s too cold.  Anyway, what’s up?”

There was really no good way to give an abbreviated version that didn’t sound like a wacky movie plot, so Zach started at the beginning, from that first frantic phone call from Chris when he had been getting ready to go out, all the way up to the previous night’s fiasco.  Zach was out of breath by the end.

Matt was silent for a long moment, but finally said, “You do know you’re hopelessly in love with him, right?  You didn’t mention it, and I just wanted to make sure you’re aware.”

“Yeah, I had pieced that together.”

“And the, uh, midnight incidents.  You really didn’t see where that was headed?”

“Well, _now_ I do.”

Matt chuckled warmly.  “You never did like to do things the normal way, did you?”

Zach had to smile at that.  “Not so much.”

“Ok, what _exactly_ did you say that set him off?”

“He asked why we couldn’t be together, like he honestly didn’t think the whole process of raising a child was even a factor to consider.  Then when I mentioned Jordan, he flew off the handle.”

“Hmm,” Matt said with an almost infuriating calm.  “Well, I don’t presume to know what’s going through his head right now, but remember he’s still sorting out how much of his life is still his and how much is now dedicated to Jordan.  It sounds like he knows that it’s almost entirely the latter, but he may not have made peace with that yet.  It’s only been, what, three months?”

“Around there, yeah.”

“I also think you need to remember that, as much as you’ve been helping out, Jordan is Chris’ daughter.  You have the option of calling it quits and going back to your own place – he doesn’t.”

“The past couple of weeks, he’s seemed like he’s handling things so well.  I guess I didn’t think he was still having a hard time.”

“Trust me, it’s going to take a while.  Simon and I agreed we were totally ready to adopt, and four months in I caught him pricing one-way airline tickets to Cabot.  I was so angry I made him sleep on the couch for two weeks, mostly because I was mad at myself for wishing I had thought of that first.  But now we both get all weepy leaving the kids even for the weekend.  Well, most of the time.”

Zach chewed on his lower lip.  “So what do I do?”

“Well, you can’t let Chris push you away.  If you’re in this – and it sounds like you are – you have to be _in_.  Trust me, Zach, he needs you.  Wait a day or so, then go over there and grovel.”

“But what did I do wrong?”

“I don’t know – maybe nothing at all.  But if you ever want to have a chance with him, you can’t turn this into a matter of your pride.”

“What if he won’t even let me in the front door?”

“Is Jordan used to seeing you every day?”

“Yeah.”

“He’ll let you in.”

Zach sighed.  He wasn’t sure about any of it, but Matt sounded so confident.  Of course, Matt always sounded confident, the suspiciously pretty bastard, but Zach had to admit that Matt had experience and an excellent track record on his side.  “Hey, man, thanks for listening.  If there’s ever anything I can do—”

“I’ll tell you exactly what you can do.  The next time you’re in New York, you’re going to come over here and babysit so I can take Simon to a ridiculously expensive hotel and we can spend a few days doing nothing but f—”

“Got it.  Thanks.”

&&&

By the time Zach ended up knocking at Chris’ front door, he’d been through an enormously stressful 24-hour process.  After he’d hung up with Matt, he’d been sure he needed to march right over to Chris’ place, drop down on his knees, and beg to be let back in.  But as he got ready to go, he started thinking about it and wondered whether Matt was right at all.  After all, Matt didn’t know how much of a stubborn bastard Chris could be.  Then Zach decided that the only way to solve this was to wait until Chris came to _him_ , because it needed to be Chris’ own idea if it was going to work.

That night, though, Zach was pretty sure he woke up every hour on the hour, listening to the dead quiet all around him.  It wasn’t like he and Chris always ended up in the same bed, but something about being totally alone in the house bothered Zach.  He didn’t dream that night – he was pretty sure he never even slept deeply enough for that.  An hour or so after dawn, he finally forced himself to actually get out of bed.

He thought about rushing straight over to Chris’, work be damned, but they were already running behind on the shooting schedule and Victor would kill him.  Plus, he felt like he should probably bring peace offerings, just in case.

So that evening, he stood on Chris’ front stoop, holding a bottle of Chris’ favorite wine and a couple of short story collections – stuff just for Chris – and prayed he wouldn’t be turned away on sight.  He ran the doorbell and winced hard as he heard Jordan start to cry.  He almost chickened out, but knew that even if he hid behind a bush, Chris would see his car, and a ding-dong-ditch that woke up the baby would likely render their friendship – and anything else – irreparable.  So Zach just held his breath as the wailing got louder, interspersed with Chris murmuring soothingly to her as he brought her with him to the front door.

Chris looked pissed, but he didn’t slam the door in Zach’s face.  They stared each other down for a few tense moments, Jordan still crying, until Zach finally broke.  “Here, let me…” he said, moving into the front hall to set the books and bottle down on the table by the door.  To his surprise, Chris didn’t stop him.  He did hesitate to hand Jordan over for just a second, though, and it was enough to break Zach’s heart.  But Chris relented, and Zach carefully took Jordan in his arms, holding her close and rubbing her back soothingly.  “I’m back, sweetheart,” he murmured.  “I’m so sorry I went away, but I’m back now.”

Zach stepped into the living room, giving Chris a moment alone to look at the books and the wine.  After a minute, Jordan’s sobs came less and less often, until she finally quieted down.  Zach thought about putting her back in the playpen, but couldn’t bring himself to let go of her warm, familiar weight against his chest.  There was no getting around it – he was in love with Jordan, too.

With Jordan breathing wetly against his neck, Zach sat patiently on the sofa, not wanting to push Chris too soon.  He could tell Chris was stalling, first taking his time putting the wine away in the kitchen, then taking the books to his bedroom.  At one point, Zach was half-convinced that Chris had actually plopped down on his bed and started reading, but it didn’t matter – Zach was here to show Chris that he was committed to this.

Zach was starting to doze lightly when Chris reemerged, looking more tired than angry now.  He sat down on the other end of the couch – as far away from Zach as possible – and Zach perked up right away, feeling Jordan squirm a little against him as he sat up.

“I just…” Chris began, speaking quietly and training his eyes firmly on the couch cushions.  “I don’t get you, Zach.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry,” Zach said earnestly.  “I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure what it was I did or said to make you upset, but that was never my intention.  I care about you so much, you and Jordan both, and I hate that you’re mad at me.”

Chris finally glanced up at him, looking utterly perplexed.  “See, that’s just what I mean.  You say these things, and you come over here and you’re so good with Jordan, but…”  Chris shook his head fiercely.

Zach felt the urge to apologize again, but for what?  Caring about Chris?  Doing the best he could to help with Jordan?

Jordan started to squirm, evidently tired of being still, so Zach gently set her in the playpen, making sure she had the little stuffed kiwi that Karl had sent – it was her favorite.  When Zach looked back up, Chris had an utterly pained expression on his face.  “Chris, I’m sorry, but there’s obviously something I’m not getting.  Just… pretend I’m really slow and start at the beginning.  Please?”

Chris gave him a look that clearly said he wasn’t going to have to pretend, but he finally started talking.  “I don’t know how much there is to say.  That was really hard for me to do, lay it all out like that, especially since I’ve never really been with a guy.  I mean, I fooled around a little bit in college, but it never led to anything.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter, does it?  Not if you won’t date someone with kids.”

Zach blinked, sure he had misheard.  “I won’t… what?”

“I know I shouldn’t blame you.  Before Jordan, I don’t think I would have, either.  But that’s what I don’t get.  You’re so good with her—”

“Chris, _wait_ ,” Zach interrupted.  “When did I say I wouldn’t date someone with kids?

“The other night.  Well, I guess technically you just said you wouldn’t date _me_ with a kid.”

“I… no, I didn’t.  I’m sure I didn’t say that.”

“I asked you what the problem was and you said it was Jordan.”

Zach racked his brain, trying to remember the exact exchange.  “No, you asked why we couldn’t date right _now_.”

“So what?  Answer’s still the same.”

“Chris, we can’t date right now because we are spending just about every waking moment caring for a very young child.  Whom I adore, by the way, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to make your life more complicated by trying to start something while you’re focusing on Jordan.”

“Hold on, so…” Chris licked his lips as he thought it through and Zach had to grab hold of the couch cushion to keep from reaching for him.  “You’re okay with dating someone with kids?”

“I never have before, but hypothetically, yes, absolutely.”

“And you’re okay with Jordan?”

“Chris, would I be pretty much living here if I weren’t?”

Chris narrowed his eyes.  “So remind me why you turned me down again?”

Zach sighed in frustration.  “I’m trying to make your life easier by being around, not harder.”

“Uh-huh.  And how, precisely, would it make my life harder if I were getting regular and I assume pretty above-average sex?”

“But it’s not just the sex you want, right?  It’s the whole relationship.  And that takes work.”

“Yeah, I got that, but humor me for a minute.  Let’s say that we were in a relationship.  What would be so different from what we’re doing now?”

“Well, we’d…”  There were things.  There had to be things.  But for the life of him, Zach couldn’t think of anything but the sex, which he’d been trying desperately _not_ to think about for months now.  “I’d need to spend more time with Noah and Harold,” he said at last, rather weakly.

To his credit, Chris didn’t burst into laughter.  “I think we can arrange that.  We can bring them over here one day and see how they do, but I think Noah’s calm and well-trained enough to be around Jordan.  And Harold… well, we’ll just make sure to keep him extremely well-fed.”

“But…”  Zach caught himself before he managed to say what he was thinking – _but that means I’ll have to move in_.  Because, really, except for the weekly visits to make sure his own apartment hadn’t caught fire, he was pretty much living with Chris.  He’d even been bringing over his houseplants one by one.  Before he spoke, he manage to rephrase it: “But then we wouldn’t just be living in the same house.  We’d be _living together_ , without even having gone out on a date.”

Chris bit his lip and nodded.  “I was thinking, if that came up… you could go back to your own place, you know.  I mean, I’m kind of getting a hang of the whole parenting thing, plus Jordan’s mostly sleeping through the night now, so if you wanted to, like, try this the normal way, we could.  I’m sure you’re probably dying to have some time and space to yourself.”

Zach knew Chris was being pretty levelheaded about the whole thing, but his first reaction was still _please don’t kick me out_.  Chris wasn’t rushing him, though, so Zach took a moment to get his thoughts together.  “I don’t think I want normal.  But whether I stay or I go back to my place… what if we break up?”

“Are we not even allowed to date before you break us up?”

“No, I’m not— I just mean, is that going to be good for Jordan?”

Chris’ face went serious.  “Zach, I’ll be honest with you – I don’t think I can stay where we are.  It’s been great, but I can’t keep going like this.  We either need to move forward, or…”

“Or?”

“Or we go back to being friends.  Good friends, but friends who live in separate places and don’t… visit each other at night.”

“Are those the only options?”

Chris seemed to be deflating before Zach’s eyes.  “Is this even something you want?  Am I something you want?”

“Yes.  Oh my god, yes,” Zach blurted.  “You and Jordan, you’re pretty much my life now.  Last night, my apartment just seemed so empty.  I want…”

Leaning forward, Chris murmured, “Yes?”

“You, Chris.  I want _you_ , but I don’t know if—”

Chris didn’t give him time to pose any more objections, just slipped a hand behind Zach’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.  Zach gasped and Chris used it as an opportunity to slide his tongue between Zach’s lips.  He wasn’t shy or hesitant in the least – he kissed Zach like he’d never get the chance again, and it pulled a deep moan out of Zach.  At the sound, Chris scrambled forward, practically climbing on to Zach’s lap.  Zach suddenly found his arms full of warm, eager Chris, and it was almost too much.  He couldn’t think, and what was more, he didn’t want to.  Zach locked an arm around Chris’ back to keep him close and curled his tongue against Chris’.

Chris groaned and pressed in closer, letting Zach feel the growing bulge in the front of his jeans.  Zach couldn’t help it; he thrust up off the couch, drawing another, louder moan out of Chris as Zach slipped a hand down the back of his pants, and—

“BA GA GA GA thhhhhhhlb.”

Zach froze.  Chris pulled back slowly, and when his eyes opened, he looked like he was emerging from a very deep sleep.  His lips were red and wet, and Zach ached to kiss them again, but Jordan let out another stream of babble and Chris shook his head.

“We can’t,” he said, and Zach’s heart started to plummet.  He’d finally started to come around to the idea that this could actually happen, and Chris was calling it off?  But Chris continued, “Not with Jordan here.  I love what we’ve been doing, but I gotta say, I really want to be able to… finish for once.”

Zach nodded.  He couldn’t really think with Chris in his lap, but nor could he bring himself to push him away.  “So, what do we do?”

Chris was the one who finally moved, pushing off of Zach and wincing a little at the tightness of his jeans as he stood.  “I think,” he said, trying to nonchalantly adjust himself, “that maybe we should back up a little.  Not jump in the middle like this.  How about I call my mom about babysitting one night this week and I take you out to dinner?  We can pretend it’s a normal first date.”

Truthfully, Zach was entirely fine with going right for the fun stuff.  But they ought to take this slowly if they wanted it to work.  Taking a deep breath to slow his heartbeat, Zach said, lightly, “What, you’re not going to call Leonard?”

Chris cringed a little.  “Man, you know I love Leonard, but the other night it was an hour and a half of what I ought to do to ‘keep you from getting away.’  And then some stuff about making Jordan listen to Chopin twice a day, all while I was half-drunk.  I feel like I’ve been adviced to death.”

“Fair enough,” Zach chuckled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably.  “Hey, can you watch her for a second?”

“Sure.  You alright?”

“Yeah, uh, I just have to…”  Chris glanced down at his crotch.  “…go take care of something real quick.”

Zach was in a similar state, but he felt like he owed Chris a little for the misunderstanding earlier.  “Go,” he said, shooing Chris away.

As Chris left, hobbling ever so slightly, Zach reached for Jordan, who was starting to get cranky.  Zach set her lightly on his knees and sighed.  “I guess we’d better start saving up for your therapy bills now.”

&&&

The restaurant was nice, a little hole-in-the-wall Mediterranean place that still managed to be elegant.  The atmosphere was nice, very low-key with a couple of live musicians playing softly in the background – no paparazzi here.  The food was very nice; Zach was halfway through some kind of lamb and pasta casserole that was truly delicious.

And it was quite possibly the worst date he’d ever been on.

They’d gotten Chris’ mother to look after Jordan, and Chris sent Zach back to his own apartment to get ready, swinging by to pick him up before dinner.  The car ride to the restaurant was the first clue that this had been a bad idea.  Chris had been playing that awful hip hop music he liked and had it up way too loud.  Zach wasn’t sure if it would be rude to say anything about it on what was technically a first date, so he spent the entire way to the restaurant struggling to hear and respond to the few words Chris said to him.

Chris was actually wearing a suit, too, and he looked massively uncomfortable in it, constantly tugging at his sleeves or shifting the jacket on his shoulders.  He hadn’t told Zach to dress up, though, and refused to let him go back in the house and change, since it would make them late for their reservation, so now Zach felt awkwardly underdressed in his jeans.  Which he managed to spill wine on not five minutes into the meal.

They’d sat in awkward silence for long minutes, trying to chat about breadsticks or the weather and failing miserably.  Zach didn’t quite know what to talk about, since Chris was pretty well up to date on everything going on in his life, so he made the fatal mistake of bringing up Trek and the question of what Chris was going to do with Jordan once filming finally started.

“Look, I know it’s something I’m going to have to deal with eventually,” Chris said peevishly, “but they still haven’t got a completed script and filming won’t start for months, anyway.  I’ll figure something out.”

“This isn’t something you can leave to the last minute, Chris.  This is a big deal.  You’ve been with Jordan almost all day, every day for months – how are you going to deal with being away from her for hours every day?  How is _she_ going to handle it?”

“You think I haven’t thought about that?” Chris snapped.  “What do you want me to do, bail on Trek like I did Jack Ryan?”

“No, god, of course not.  I just don’t want you to let so much time go by that you wake up one morning and realize filming starts in a week and you still have no plan.”

“Still trying to make my life easier for me, huh?” Chris grumbled, and they lapsed into heavy silence.

Zach stared down at his pastitsio, which had started out tasting so good, but he’d pretty much lost his appetite.  He hazarded a glance up at Chris, who was picking intently at a thread on his lapel, and suddenly Zach couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grunted as he rose from his seat.  He just needed a few minutes away from Chris to think this through.  There was no salvaging the date, obviously, but with some work, their friendship might survive.  Except that would probably require space – something that Zach didn’t want to give, not even when he was so frustrated with Chris that he wanted to smack him upside the head.

The men’s bathroom was a fairly large one-seater, and as soon as Zach got the door locked behind him, he let out a long, pained groan.  Despite the fact that he’d been trying to remain sensible, he had so hoped this would work.  It could have been so good, so perfect.  He forced himself to walk over to the sink, mechanically turning on the faucet and splashing cool water on his face.  He looked at himself in the mirror and immediately wished he hadn’t – he looked tired.

Looking at the bags under his eyes, the laugh lines starting to form around his mouth, Zach felt a momentary but deep pang of despair.  His career was going so well that he’d hardly given any thought to finding someone and settling down.  He’d always just sort of assumed it would happen when it was meant to, but here he was, closing in on 35 and unable to even go on a successful date with someone he really liked without it going all to hell.  Though surely he couldn’t take all the blame for tonight’s disaster…

The sharp rattling of the doorknob snapped him out of his thoughts and he was just glad he’d remembered to lock the door.  The rattling soon stopped, but whoever was out there then started pounding on the door instead.  “Occupied!” Zach shouted, uncharacteristically flustered by the noise, and tried to get his thoughts back together to form a plan for the rest of the night.

But the pounding only intensified.  Zach felt bad for whoever had to use the bathroom that badly, but he just wasn’t up to going back out there yet.  “Go away,” Zach shouted again.  “I ate some bad clams.  It’s like a horror movie in here.”

“You are such a terrible liar,” came an exasperated voice from the other side of the door.

“Chris?”

“Let me in there.  Unless you really _are_ experiencing gastrointestinal distress, in which case—”

Zach was at the door in two steps, opening it and pulling Chris in before the entire restaurant heard him.  “Okay, what the _hell_?”

Chris’ eyes were solemn.  “Zach, I don’t know what’s going on out there, who we turned into tonight, but that’s not us.  I know we argue sometimes, and that’s healthy and all, but the two guys who have been awkwardly making small talk in between snapping at each other?  I don’t know who they are, but I want them gone.  I want it to be us again.”

Zach’s insides began to melt at the sincerity in Chris’ voice, but he had to be realistic.  “Chris, this isn’t working.”

“Are you just saying that because of tonight?”

“Well, yeah.  Now we’ve tried the normal dating thing and we know it doesn’t work.”

“Fuck normal,” Chris growled, his eyes suddenly sparking with heat.  “I’m not throwing away the best three months of my life after two bad hours.  We can fucking _make_ this work.”

Before Zach could process that, Chris’ hands were sliding around his neck, refusing to allow Zach to back away as Chris pressed their lips together.  This kiss was rougher than the one they’d shared a few days ago – more urgent, and with much more teeth.  Zach’s arms went around Chris’ waist automatically, pulling Chris’ warm, willing body close.  Chris tasted of garlic and Greek spices and, somewhere deep down, pure heat, and Zach was slammed into full arousal in an instant.

Zach felt like he should say something to mark the moment, even just a “yes, please,” but when he pulled back to look Chris in the eye, he found his voice utterly gone.  But when Chris began reaching for Zach’s belt, he sprang into action, unlatching it quickly so Chris’ hand could slip inside and Zach could crush their mouths together again.

He wasn’t giving Chris enough space to do more than awkwardly stroke his fingers along Zach’s length, but Zach couldn’t bear to give up the tight press of their bodies from chest to thigh.  Chris pushed and maneuvered until Zach’s back was against the wall, as though Zach was planning on trying to escape, even with Chris’ hand down his pants.  Zach groaned at the loss of body contact when Chris pinned his shoulder to the wall with one hand and stepped back, but quickly stopped complaining when it allowed Chris to wrap the fingers of his other hand around Zach’s cock and tug.  Zach let out a loud gasp, then another, more pained sound when his head knocked back against the wall.  Chris had the audacity to chuckle breathlessly at that, and Zach decided it was time to keep things moving.

With only a little remorse, he removed Chris’ hand from the front of his jeans.  Chris frowned for a moment – but only a moment, because then Zach was reaching for Chris’ zipper, deftly undoing his trousers and lifting Chris’ cock out of his underwear.

Their little late night frot sessions had never involved nudity, so Zach was finally getting his first look at Chris’ dick, and he was not disappointed.  Though he wasn’t fully hard yet, it was still pleasantly heavy in Zach’s hand, growing thicker with each stroke.  Chris whimpered shamelessly and leaned in, burying his face against Zach’s neck to suck and bite as Zach worked him over.  The renewed closeness meant that Zach’s hand bumped against his own erection, still straining against his briefs.

After many frustrating encounters over the years, Zach had learned that mutual hand jobs were nearly impossible when one party was a lefty and the other a righty, but it also meant that he’d learned some patience, or – failing that – some ways to expedite the process in a mutually satisfying manner.  Without letting go of Chris, Zach pulled his own cock free, groaning with relief.  He pressed their erections together, encircling both in his left hand and pumping firmly. 

He felt Chris’ frame stiffen against him, but his cock practically leapt in Zach’s hand, and Zach grinned victoriously as Chris’ hips started to rock, fucking his leaking hard-on against Zach’s.  Chris shifted his weight, widening his stance to better thrust into Zach’s steely grip.  With his hands free, he once again reached for Zach’s face, cradling it with surprising gentleness, as his tongue probed deeply into Zach’s mouth.  Just like that, they fell easily into rhythm, Zach tending to their cocks and Chris to their mouths, sucking and licking at Zach’s swollen, sensitive lips.

Before long, Zach felt a familiar tightness low in his belly that meant he was close.  “Chris,” he gasped against the other man’s mouth.  “Chris, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah,” Chris said, grinding in with his hips and nipping at Zach’s lower lip.  “Do it.”

Zach could practically count down the strokes – five, four, three, two…  And then Chris found his tongue and _sucked_ , and Zach lost it, thrusting up against Chris’ hardness and spilling over his own hand, finally getting to come pressed tight against Chris’ body.

Chris kissed him through it, his lips softening as Zach’s went slack with bliss.  Zach gave himself a few seconds to pull it together, then carefully withdrew his own spent, sensitive cock to focus on Chris.

It didn’t take long, especially since Zach’s hand was now slick with his own release.  Chris rested his forehead against Zach’s and moaned, body growing more and more rigid until the tension broke rather spectacularly and Chris was coming.  Zach looked down to watch Chris’ gorgeous cock jump and spurt in his hand as Chris breathed raggedly against his mouth and shuddered hard.

Zach held Chris’ softening dick lightly as they both caught their breath.  After a long minute, Chris spoke up, his voice still low and raspy with sex.  “Zach?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna need that back, buddy.”

Tender and romantic it was not, but Zach gave one last soft squeeze for good measure and released Chris.  It was only then that he remembered where they were.  “Fuck, Chris, we just…”

He looked up to see the very same thought occur to Chris, who finished his sentence.  “…in a restaurant bathroom.”

Zach looked down at his shirt, which was now spotted with droplets of cum – his or Chris’, he couldn’t tell.  Chris’ shirt had somehow stayed dry, but his pants were a mess, and he was obviously flushed and sweaty.  Zach couldn’t help it; he started laughing.  “Well, I think we may have bypassed normal for good.”

For a minute, Zach was a little worried that Chris was going to freak out, but then a crooked, bashful grin slowly began to spread across face.  “Everybody’s going to know what we were doing in here, aren’t they?”

“If they don’t already,” Zach gasped between helpless giggles.

“And if they don’t, they probably think we skipped out on the check,” Chris moaned, but it ended in a chuckle.  “I hope you’re not too attached to this place, because we can never come here again.”

“Aww, but this is where we had our first date!  Where am I supposed to take you for our anniversaries?”

If Chris thought that was a bit premature, he didn’t show it.  “No, we’ve got to pick somewhere else.  Somewhere we haven’t violated at least a dozen health regulations.”

“You keep wearing suits like that when we go out and there’s not gonna be an unviolated restaurant left in LA.”

“You sweet-talker,” Chris purred, slinking back up into Zach’s space for another kiss, this one slow and languid, as though everything else in the world had fallen away.

Neither of them really wanted to leave the safe haven of the bathroom, but eventually Zach had to pull away to wash off the mess half-dried on his hands.  They both straightened up as best as they could, though it still seemed obvious – to Zach, at least – why Chris was wearing that satisfied grin.

Oh, well.  Better to get it over with now.  They’d have to leave an exorbitant tip.  “Ready?” Zach asked, his hand on the door handle.

“Not for any of this,” Chris said, his smile never faltering.  “But I think it’s going to work out anyway.”

 

 **Epilogue**

“Chris, can you please—”

“Just a second.”

“Seriously, Chris, Carlos is going to break my fingers if I ruin one more pair of ears.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris grumbled, but when he came close to take Jordan, he was smiling.  Jordan whimpered as Chris lifted her from Zach’s shoulder, her arms outstretched as she reached back and made grabby hands at Zach’s head.  “I know, sweetheart,” Chris cooed.  “We all want to play with them.  But the makeup people are big, bad monsters that like to gobble up babies who mess up prosthetic Vulcan ears.”

“Chris, should you really be telling her things that are scary and—” Zach glanced around quickly for Carlos “—probably not true?”

“Just preparing her for the realities of life on set,” Chris said, setting her in the Captain’s chair and crouching down to gently tweak her nose.  It was truly unfair to every woman in the building, all of whom were drawn inexplicably toward the sight of Captain Kirk playing with a baby.  It must have been some kind of hormonal thing, because even the very large, very stern boom mike operator who looked like she could take Zach in a fight without even breaking a sweat was gravitating toward them.  Hell, even most of the guys were grinning like idiots.

“Alright, alright,” JJ said, trying to sound stern even though he, too, was smiling.  “Pete’s almost got the lighting grid fixed, so the little sprout needs to go back from whence she came.”

There was a collective “Awwww,” but Chris promptly whisked her up.  It had taken a great deal of negotiation and a not-insignificant chunk of their own funds, but they’d been able to set up a day care for children of the cast and crew near the main soundstages.  Chris had finally broken down and hired a nanny for the times when they were off filming on location, but on days like this that often stretched long into the night, they could at least have Jordan nearby. 

What Chris hadn’t yet talked the producers into was the need to include in the film the presence of Vulcan babies on the new colony – “just, y’know, to show that they’re successfully adapting to the new planet and beginning to repopulate and stuff” – but he hadn’t give up yet.  Zach was a little surprised that Chris hadn’t attempted to pluck her wispy little eyebrows into shape already.

Before leaving the set, Chris brought her back over to Zach and held her out for a kiss on the forehead.  “Bye Jordan,” Zach said.  “Play nice with the other kids.”  Chris pulled Jordan back, then stepped forward himself.  Zach sighed.  “Bye Chris,” Zach said, obliging him with a kiss on the forehead.  “Get your butt back here in two minutes or I’ll tell everyone about the duct-taped diapers.”

Chris frowned.  “Uncool.  I thought we’d agreed never to mention that again.”

“No, _you_ told me to never mention that again.  I agreed to nothing.”

After blowing a haughty raspberry, Chris turned on his heels and left, murmuring, “Let’s go, Jordan.  We don’t want to play with the Vulcans, anyway.  They’re mean.”

As Zach watched them go, Zoe wandered up, linking her arm through Zach’s and leaning lightly on his shoulder.  “Hot damn.  You picked a good time to hit that, you know.  Every straight woman of childbearing age in the world wants to be you right now.”

Zach elbowed her gently.  “You included?”

“Nah, I’ve got my own in the works.”

It took Zach a minute to puzzle that out.  He pulled back and looked at her.  “Seriously?”

She grinned, her eyes lighting up.  “Yep.”

“How long have you known?  Does Keith know?”

“Uh, _yes_ , and only about a week now.  I’m due in September.  Don’t go blabbing, though.  I’m not announcing anything until principle photography is over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zach said sincerely.  “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Zoe said with a small smile.  “I’m a little concerned about accidentally bringing on the apocalypse, though.”

Well, that was quite a non sequitur.  “Okay, you lost me.”

“I’m a little worried I might break down and ask Chris for parenting advice.  _Chris.  Parenting advice_.”

Zach laughed.  “Hey, he’s done alright by her.”

“Not _just_ by her,” Zoe said meaningfully, nudging him in the ribs.

His face flushed as he watched Chris come back on set, a spring in his step as he winked at Zach.  “I guess not.”


End file.
